Yiayia & Papou: Ministry, Kosovo Crisis in '99

Don't start reading this blog unless you have a lot of time on your hands. I have a lot to reflect on & I don't need your help.


Ever since I moved in with my grandparents I've learned more & more about their mission in Albania.

I don't know how I could ever tell about everything they do and every area of ministry they're plugged into. And, every time I think I have a grasp on it, another story or question pops up & I find out something new.

It started years ago as: my grandparents own a restaurant & a few churches in Tirana, Albania.
Then: My grandparents own a bookstore.
Lately: My grandparents own a bookstore, a restaurant, churches, orphanages, moving company, electrical company, warehouse, etc etc etc.

Now, when I say they "own" it I mean they "run" it for the Lord who "owns" it. Never in my life have I admired two people more than I admire my grandparents. As I sit & write, tears flow down my cheeks in awe of how God has turned a gypsies son & a poor schoolgirl into History Makers.

When my grandparents were first deciding to go onto the mission field my dad was the one who was going to pray the prayer on the morning the church commissioned them.
He recently told me that during the service the Lord gave him a vision, God spoke to him and told him that my grandparent's names would be written in history books in years to come. Dad never said this in front of the congregation because that's a lofty claim to make. It was a simple lack of faith on his part, but I don't think it makes the statement any less true. They are history makers.

And I can't explain how aside from absolute faith in God, and willingness to go where He leads.

I know that missions is my passion & it's what I will pursue. Oversees missions, I mean. But, I don't know that I'll be successful. However you determine success on the mission field, I haven't a clue. But, I know that there's a voice in my head & a voice in my deceptive heart that is whispering 'You're a failure.' Plain and simple. And, naturally, that's the voice I choose to believe nine times out of 10.

Then, I look at my grandparents. Didn't know they were going to Albania until they randomly saw it on a map one day. Just sitting there next to Greece. All small and deprived. Only just coming out of communism.

So, here's this couple on a plane to Albania. No time to take language courses. They'll learn it when they get there. And they did.

Then, they get there with a task. Which turns into another task. And yet another. Until their ministry is rapidly unfolding before their eyes. Their oh so humble eyes.

They don't question it, they don't advertise it,
Because they have faith in all of God's mysteries. And humility before His very hand.

Tonight, my Aunt Louise got curious about what exactly they do in Albania, much like the rest of us.
I honestly think their ministry is very literally beyond words. So, we try not to ask much.

My grandma (who from now on will be referred to by her proper name: Yiayia) had my grandpa (from now on: Papou) whip out some of the tapes of their ministry. Old, beat up VHS tapes. Shaky footage, grainy picture tapes.

It started with some simple footage of the restaurant, a few orphanages, an old folks home (yet another discovery tonight). Then, we stumbled across a video of Yiayia & Papou serving in the Kosovo crisis. I can't explain this image to you, but I will try.

They hauled one of the largest most monstrous trucks I've ever seen through the mountains of Kosovo along the unpaved cliffs with a 2 foot drop on the one side. Papou hops up onto the back of the truck, swings open the door and you see bread. Heaps, mounds, of unboxed bread. Loaves that were clearly just thrown into the truck on a fly. Loaves upon loaves upon loaves. Straight from Yiayia & Papou's bakery (once again, with the revelations) into that ginormous truck.

Quickly, Papou starts ordering people around to get him boxes. He loads up box after box when 2 other men (I'm assuming they traveled with him) hop into the back as if the 50+ yrs they've been alive has done nothing to their body. I know, of course, soul was taking reign over body for the time being. For this crisis.

Let me explain to you why they needed bread.

A couple of years ago a great tragedy happened in Kosovo (a Serbian region very close to the Albanian border). Kosovo is made up of mostly Albanians. However, it is a territory of Serbia. Therefore, the Serbs are almost always trying to ostracize the Albanians in Kosovo to drive them out & purify the nation. A few years ago, the Serbian army went from house to house in Kosovo collecting all the weapons belonging to each family (gives you a whole new perspective on the right to bear arms, eh?). The army attacked about a week later. Driving the Albanians out of their country. Similar to what is currently happening in Burma, and roughly what is happening again in Kosovo.

So, the Albanian/Serbian border was soon full of refugee camps. I wish I could show you the footage. Rows and rows of white tents, with dark-skinned children and sad faces hanging out, cooking what little food they had. Isolated. Alone. And volunteers EVERYWHERE like busy buys. Distributing, videotaping, interviewing, donating.

The United Nations will not give refugees more than they absolutely need because they want to encourage them to find a home ASAP. My grandparents, however, took them in, thousands of them.

As the trucks arrived at the site full of bread, Papou boxed it up & started passing boxes of bread out to volunteers them out. Soon, you see staff & volunteers at barbed wire fences handing loaves of bread to refugees. Beautiful sight, really.

Later:
Thousands of people were housed by my grandparents in a strong, clean building with partitions for each family. They offered a better refugee camp than the United Nations ever could. Complete with bathrooms and areas for them to cook that didn't mean red clay and ants in your teeth. Not to mention, they offered them love. The purest love. The love of Christ. Which I would be a fool to overlook.

Yiayia talks about this time as a time that you know when you're getting no sleep, not enough food, no rest, God is doing something supernatural. God is making this happen. Because you could never be strong enough.

She said the people they cared for were like a big, gigantic family God put in their pathway.

Being with my grandparents in America makes them seem so ordinary. They make me do the dishes and clean my room. They like to have high-tech gadgets and they grumble when they miss a doctor's appointment.

They aren't easy people. They aren't perfect people.

Just goes to show, God doesn't need those people. Those people can go try to make it on their own, and fail.

Meanwhile, He'll take the broken, the incapable, the HUMBLE, and He'll make something great out of them. He'll give them tasks too long for their granddaughters to write in a blog. He'll touch lives through them. He'll inspire people because of them.

This isn't about my grandparents. This is about God. This is about how afraid I am to do missions work. How afraid I am to even go to Albania for a month. & about how afraid I am NOT to do missions work. This is about God overcoming all of my fears. This is about the fact that God can do ANYTHING.

If anyone made it through this blog, which I doubt, I need to tell you something:

God can do ANYTHING. I know that you claim to know this. And maybe you do know it. But you will never understand it. Because, ANYTHING doesn't fit into our box. ANYTHING is too big.


BUT: NOTHING is too big for God. Not even ANYTHING.